


remember how the stars stole the night away

by strawberryicebreakers (TheUltimateFandomer)



Category: Actor RPF, Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, M/M, Prompt Fill, Romantic Comedy, Teacher Joe Mazzello, gratuitous descriptions of an apartment that I could never afford, i had to literally research apartments for this, moved it to dc baby!, said apartment chosen is in nyc, specifically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-10-25 12:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17725559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltimateFandomer/pseuds/strawberryicebreakers
Summary: In which an apple takes a leap of faith, twins decide to have some fun, and being a science teacher isn't the worst job in the world.





	1. nice for what

**Author's Note:**

> it's mazlek hours, y'all!
> 
> this takes place in washington, d.c for no other reason than as a big "fuck you" to movie/tv/any media that exclusively takes place in nyc or california. dmv area STRONG!
> 
> I had to research apartments for this shit, but the only one that you see the inside of is joe's.[https://www.corcoran.com/nyc-real-estate/for-sale/upper-east-side/170-east-88th-street-apt-6a/5109915]
> 
> song for this chapter: nice for what [drake] chosen simply because part of my step routine includes it and its' been stuck in my head since last May.
> 
> this was written while I ate a caramel sundae from mcdonald's and it shows.
> 
> I'm currently writing parts two and three, but I just wanted to have them separated lmao

Stumbling with paper grocery bags as if he was in an old 90’s rom-com, Joe tried to free his hand to get his key-card out. He tried to be quick, face neutral as he balanced the bags in one hand and have his card in the other; the cute brunette from the next building over was walking nearby to get to his own home, and he didn’t want to look like a dumb-ass. Every day, Joe saw this guy with his high-end clothes and perfect hair, and every day he tried to work up the nerve to talk to him.  _ I could always make a joke about the guy that looks just like him that I see at work everyday,  _ Joe thought to himself, grimacing as he felt the bags begin to slip,  _ maybe they know each other? Wait, would that be creepy? I don't want to scare him, I want him to think I'm some cool, suave guy that wears button up shirts and buys organic food. _

As the bag at the bottom ripped, Joe realized that his attempt at nonchalance was futile. Two bags of trail mix, a carton of milk, and a singular apple fell to their collective doom, bouncing to the curb and, in the case of the apple, bursting open as it hit the corner of a step. Cute Brunette stopped, seeming to take in the scene before him with the same air as one would regard a train derailing. Joe looked at him, eyes wide as he set the other bags down and tried to grab the fallen items as quick as humanly possible.

Reaching down, Joe tried to avoid any kind of contact with Cute Brunette, who seemed to have gravitated over to him. He was dressed in a striped t-shirt and pants,  _ it’s hot as shit outside, how is he wearing pants? _ , with a bag slung over one shoulder and headphones around his neck without a care in the world. "Need any help with that?” he said, bemusedly looking at the other man who was, at the moment, cramming food into his arms and trying not to drop it all over again.

Joe’s face went as red as his shirt as he stood back up, milk and trail mix in his arms as he discreetly nudged the apple pieces with his foot to hide them in the grass next to the sidewalk. “Uh,” he stammered, “I, uh, I think I’m good, but thanks.”

“Okay,” Cute Brunette said, lip quirked in a small smile, and stepped back. With his eyebrows knit together, he questioned,“I wonder, why did the apple break open, but not the milk?”

_ God, he’s adorable when he’s confused,  _ Joe thought. The other man looked at him, expecting some sort of remark.  _ Shit, his face isn’t the focus here. _ “Maybe the apple Gods are angry with me,” he said, laughing to himself a bit. His arm instinctively went to rub at the back of his neck, a nervous habit he never really ditched, without realizing that he still had food in his arms. One of the trail mix packets took the plunge yet again.  _ Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t catch a break today. _

Cute Brunette leaned down before he got the chance, plucking the snack from the ground. “Here,” he said, passing it to Joe, who let his hand linger for just a bit too long to be normal.  _ His skin is soft,  _ he thought.  _ I wonder if his- _

”Okay, well,” Cute Brunette continued, “I’ve got to get home, my brother’ll be here any second. Don’t want to confuse him, you know?” 

“Oh, yeah, I get that,” Joe replied. He turned back to his apartment, making sure the key-card was already out of his pocket to avoid the same situation. A sudden bout of courage came over him. “Hey, can I get your number? I’ve seen you around and I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while. My name is-,” he finished turning around, only to see that Cute Brunette was already opening his own door, earbuds in. “-Joe.”

Sighing to himself, he went back to his own door, going inside with everything sans his self confidence and his apple.

-

Setting his groceries down onto the counter, Joe began to put his food away. His speaker sat nestled in between the coffee pot and the stove, beckoning him. He pulled his phone out, connecting to the speaker and pressing shuffle on Spotify.

_ “ _ _ I wanna know who mothafuckin' representin' in here tonight!” _ blared from it, and Joe scrambled to turn it down to a level where his landlord wouldn’t manifest in front of him, cloud of dense smoke appearing with an eviction notice in hand. He emptied the bags into the cupboards and refrigerator with two minutes still left.  _ Huh, new record. _

The music continued to play. “ _ And you showin’ off, but it’s alright,” _ the song sang out, amping himself up to the point of wanting to show off, even if he didn’t have anything to showcase. His legs carried him to the living room, bopping along to the music. The room, lit up from the hot July day outside shining through the two large windows that faced the building next door, was welcoming to him as he danced, admittedly shittily, to a song he’d barely heard before. He let himself go loose, a luxury he never allowed himself when in public, and he tried to mimic all of the new moves he saw teenagers on the internet do, which went about as well as expected. It seemed as though the younger generation had moved on without him, and he now realized the reason why his dad always shook his head at all of the trends when he was a kid.

_ God, I’m old,  _ he thought. When did he get so old? It felt like just yesterday he'd been in line to see  _Jurassic Park_ opening weekend with his family and freaking out at the dinosaurs. He connected a lot with the kid in the movie back then, scared out of his mind.

Not realizing where his feet had carried him as he thought, he went to do a different move, and his ankle cracked against the leg of the coffee table. He cursed and paused the music, cutting Drake off mid- _ “gotta make that jump!”  _ and sat down onto the couch. Letting his ankle rest for a moment, he looked through his window and noticed that the apartment opposite to his had its’ window open as well, but no one seemed to be in the room.  _ Small mercies, if they’d seen me dance, they’d think I’m insane.  _ He sat in silence for a few more minutes, going over all of the weird childhood trends he’d gone through. 

Snoopy Thermos aside, he didn’t think that his trends were too bad, but hey, who isn’t biased?

With that bout of self-pity over, Joe stood up, determined not to let his freshly-bought groceries go to waste. Walking back to his kitchen, he held his head high with the air of someone who’s finally decided to act like an adult by eating healthily. Greeting him was a large stack of dishes in the sink that he’d somehow missed earlier when he put said healthy food away.

He ordered pizza and called it a night.


	2. could've been me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which others are introduced, school is drawing near, and the twins continue to confuse poor joe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "be back soon!" lie detector test has determined that THAT was a goddamn lie. I Am Sorry.
> 
> so like,,, this chapter was originally part of a seperate au but I've decided to edit it and make it fit into here. hence why it is So Goddamn Long compared to the teeny tiny first chapter. 
> 
> song- could've been me [the struts]
> 
> have fun, gremlins!

As August came to a close, school started up again. Joe had seen some of his colleagues around the area, and even as an adult, even as a damn  _ teacher  _ himself, it still messed with his mind that teachers lived lives outside of school. It seemed as though his co-workers had been replaced by gentler, funnier versions of themselves when it came time to ready the classrooms in the week leading up to the first day. 

Mr. Bell was no longer a stoic eighth-grade history teacher, instead, he was a fifty-eight year old man who wore Mario t-shirts and played 8-bit versions of popular songs as he reorganized the shelves in his room. 

Mrs. Dai wasn’t just a gym teacher with a zero-tolerance policy for laziness, she was a thirty-five year old woman with tattoos winding up her arms that she hid during the staff meetings and a wardrobe that apparently consisted solely of black tank tops and jorts. 

Mr. Malek, the ESL teacher who’d had the misfortune of having his classroom moved to the empty room next to Joe’s, was a thirty-seven year old man with scruff lining his face and a pencil behind his ear. 

Standing at the front of his room, Joe tried to gauge if the seats were symmetrical. As a science teacher, he’d been given long tables with stools instead of regular desks with chairs, which made seating arrangements hell on Earth.  _ God help me if I get the assholes from Mr. O’Connel’s class last year,  _ he thought, nudging the edge of the table closest to himself a little bit to the right. Joe knew that hating students he hadn’t even met yet wasn’t the best habit to get into, but honestly, with the stories he’d heard, he’d rather have a kid that ate glue than the students that thought it’d be funny to graffiti the school walls and sign their damn names at the bottom.  _ Dumb-asses, if you’re going to commit a crime, don’t make it easy to trace back to yourselves. _

A crash next door pulled Joe out of his thoughts, combined with a man’s voice swearing to high heaven. Joe strode over to see what all of the fuss was about, and was greeted with the sight of Mr. Malek surrounded by textbooks and pencils scattered around him. “God fucking-”

“Hello,” Joe said, and laughed as he saw Mr. Malek’s mouth slam shut.

“Jesus, dude,” Mr. Malek said, letting out a breath with a hand over his heart, “I thought you were Dr. Kade. He’d have my ass for swearing in the classroom, even if there aren’t any students here.”

“Nah, just here to see if you need any help.” He gestured to the fallen items.

“I’m good, but thanks. My brother’ll be here any minute, his shoot gets out early today and he promised to help me out.”

“His shoot?”

“Yeah, he does acting, just a few roles on network television and all that.” Pride bloomed on his face, smiling a bit.

“That sounds fantastic! Oh,” Joe said, sticking a hand out, “I’m Joe Mazzello, I teach seventh-grade biology next door.”

“Sami,” the other man replied, and shook his hand. “I teach ESL.”

“I figured,” Joe nodded at the walls, “the posters kind of gave it away.”

Mr. Malek’s, no, Sami’s classroom was extremely colorful, with bright, encouraging posters lining the walls in various languages. His desk already had knick-knacks cluttered about, with a few figurines of characters Joe vaguely recognized from ads he’d seen. His diploma was framed on the wall alongside a few photos of Sami with what Joe assumed were family members. Beanbags sat in the corner of the room, and Joe deposited himself in one of them. “So,” he said, “what made you want to become a teacher, Sami?”

“I get that question every damn year from my kids,” Sami replied, shaking his head. 

“Wait, actual kids, or like-”

Sami’s eyes went wide. “Oh, hell no. My students, not actual children, but at this point, what’s the difference?”

“Point taken.”

“Anyways, as a kid, my siblings and I only spoke Arabic for the majority of when we were young; we learnt English as we went to public school. ESL teachers were the best to us; if I can be that for a kid, I’d be a teacher until I’m in my grave.”

“That’s,” Joe paused, trying to find the right word, “really wholesome.”

“Why’d you become a teacher?”

“Science was the only subject I was allowed to blow things up in.”

Sami rolled his eyes, laughing. “Fair enough.”

The two men lapsed into a comfortable silence, with Sami placing the pencils back into their boxes and the textbooks onto the shelves in the room. Joe opened his phone, flipping through the various SnapChat’s his friends sent him. A photo of Gwilym next to the Washington Monument with the caption “almost as big as what your mom saw last night” made him snicker, and showing it to Sami made both men laugh even more.

“He sounds charming,” Sami said, and looked curiously at the other man. “Hey, Joe, can I ask you an odd question?

“Yeah, hit me.”

“Are you single?”

Joe dropped his phone. “Hey, Sami, you seem like a cool guy, but I don’t date co-workers and-”

“Not for me, idiot.”

“Oh, thank Christ. I don’t think I’d make it through the year if it was awkward between us, with you next door and all.”

“You are open to dating guys, though?”

Joe eyed him, wary. “Why do you ask?”  
“Just want to know if I’ll have to worry about you, too.” He laughed, pausing for a moment before adding “you know, no one ever seems to realize how hard it is for educators to find a date.”

“Honestly, at this point, I’d take anyone. No one wants to date a teacher, all they ever think of when I mention my job are the teachers they had in school that were dicks to them.”

“Preach it,” Sami said, moving a chair to the opposite side of the classroom. “Everyone wants to know the ‘dirty little secrets’ teachers have; it’s like the only information they know about us come from shitty pornos.”

“Count your mercies while you can, man. At least we don’t teach high schoolers.”

“God, you’re right. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if a student tried to hit on me.”

“Don’t forget the angst. Sixteen-year olds wearing all black in summer heat make me sweat out of sheer pity.”

“Eh, I’ve seen a fair amount of twelve-year olds like that, though.”

“At least they stand the chance of growing out of it.”

A knock on the door had both men’s heads turn. “Yo,” a woman, Mrs. Dai stood, leaning on the doorframe. “There’s a guy at the front, I’m assuming it’s the brother you told me about earlier?” 

“Yeah, that’s him. I mean, anyone would know if they took one look at him.”

That sparked Joe’s attention.  _ Huh,  _ he thought,  _ I guess they must look alike. _

“Well, I’d be happy to escort him to your room, but Aaron already claimed him. I think he’s giving him the tour right now,” her voice dipped low, “if you know what I mean.”

Sami looked up, eyes narrowing. “Tell Aaron that if I find him fucking my brother in the broom closet, I’m personally going to make sure all of the kids in his shop class refuse to wear safety goggles.”

Mrs. Dai laughed, “whatever you say, Sami. You can’t protect him from every man y’all meet.” She turned to leave before adding, “let him know he’s always welcome in the gym if he needs to hide from you!”

“Fuck you, too, Dai,” Sami deadpanned.

“You know you love me,” she said, voice carrying down the hall as she walked away. Joe looked after her, bemused as he heard her cackling.

Sami went over to his phone, typing out a message. He frowned down at the screen.

Out of all the years he’d seen Sami in the teacher’s lounge, in the halls, even hearing about him from his students, and yet he’d never seen hide nor hair of his sibling.“How come I’ve never met your brother?” Joe asked.

Setting his phone down, Sami ran a hand through his hair, cropped close to his head.“He used to come around all the time when I first started teaching in ‘03, long before you came here, but he started getting roles faster and faster;” with this, Sami’s face turned dark, voice turning gruff. “All of a sudden he’d be flying out to New York for shoots with directors that didn’t care about him and crew that didn’t look after him like I did,” his eyes furrowed, “like I still do. He was dropping weight faster than I’m comfortable with, just for a job. I’ve been worried about him for a while; I can’t drop everything to visit him with my students, and he’s never on his phone.” Sami paused, taking a breath. “He always comes home, though, so I try to keep him in arms’ reach when I can.”

“That has to be hard for both of you, dude,” Joe said. He wasn’t the best in sympathetic situations, but he could try. “What’s brought him to Virginia?”

Smiling, Sami glanced over at him. “The season for the show he’s on now finishes wrapping soon, and turns out, the last few episodes take place in D.C. I made him promise that he’d stay at our house while it films, and that he’d stay here during his downtime. The next season won’t start filming until April, so you’ll be seeing him a lot in the coming months.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Joe said. “He sounds like a great guy from what you’ve told me.”

“I’m sure you’ll love him,” Sami said, and winked. “Just, try not to get too freaked out when you see him, okay?”

“Why would I get-”

A knock on the opened door caused both men to turn, and suddenly, Joe knew exactly why Sami asked him not to freak out. Even so, he couldn’t stop from vocalizing his reaction. “What the fuck?”

A lithe man stood in the doorway, one hand still in a fist that resided upon the wooden door. He wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans, contrasting with the neon contained within the classroom around him, though this wasn’t the cause of Joe’s befuddlement. No, the cause of that particular issue was, save for the lack of scruff and the fact that he was a bit smaller than Sami, he was the spitting image of the teacher next to Joe.  _ Is that Cute Brunette? _

Sami turned to him, and upon seeing his face, barked out a laugh.

“Hello to you, too,” the man said, smiling. His voice was a low monotone, something that Joe hadn’t noticed in their previous interaction, which suited him perfectly, now that he thought about it. Green eyes flicked up to meet his, and Joe felt his face flush.

Sami was a co-worker, one of, in Joe’s opinions, the most sexless relationships you could have with a person, especially when you both work in education, but this man?  _ Christ,  _ Joe thought,  _ is it weird that I think he’s hot? _

The other man was still looking at him, and Sami joined in as well. Seeing both of them, especially with the conflicting feeling he had about the two, was too much.  _ Yep, it’s weird. _

“Dude,” Sami said, brows furrowed, “you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m, uh,” Joe stammered, still looking at the new man. “I’m, uh, fine. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Looking him up and down, Sami murmured “mmhmm, right,” as he turned to his brother. “Joe, this is my brother, Rami. Rami, this is my co-worker, Joe.”

“Nice to meet you again,” Rami said, holding his hand out. Joe stood up to shake it, determined to not ruin this moment. In his peripheral vision, he saw Sami’s eyes dart to his brothers as he mouthed something Joe couldn’t make out.

As he took a step forward, his foot rolled over a pencil that Sami had inadvertently missed, and he went down like a sack of bricks. “Shit!” Joe yelped as he felt his feet go out from under him. An older man stuck his head in the door.

“Language, Mr. Mazzello.”

“Yeah, I know, Dr. Kade,” Joe replied from the floor.

“Oh, hello, Rami,” Dr. Kade continued, oblivious to his employee’s odd choice of residence. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“Just got here a few days ago,” Rami replied. “It’s nice to be back, it’s much nicer here than it is in London.”

“Well, you’re always welcome here.” Dr. Kade paused, looking straight into Rami’s eyes. “You know, Rami, if you ever need help settling in again-”

“Thanks, but he’s living with me,” Sami said, smiling through clenched teeth.

“Ah, forgot about that. Sorry, Mr. Malek.”

“Most do.” Narrowing his eyes, Sami subtlety reached a hand out and moved his brother closer to his side. “Rami’s got some work here, though, so he won’t be here all that often.”

“Shame,” Dr. Kade said, not even attempting to look at Sami; instead, he stared openly at the other brother. “My office is always open, don’t forget that!”

“I won’t, Alexander,” Rami said. Sami’s head snapped to look at his brother.

“Oh, Mr. Mazzello?”

Joe tried not to groan. “Yes?”

“Get off the floor, would you? The custodians haven’t been in here yet, it’s dirtier than the outside track.”

“Got it.”

With that, Dr. Kade left, which let Sami vocalize what he’d grown outraged about. “‘Alexander’?” he questioned, voice rising. “Since when is he ‘Alexander’ to you?”

“What? All we do is text,” Rami said, sliding out of Sami’s grip. He strolled over to the desk, past Joe, still on the floor. This answer did not seem to please Sami.

“You text my boss?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “What about it?”

“What about it,” Sami mimicked. “‘What about it,’ he says, unable to realize how fucking weird it is to know that my boss and my brother text each other. ‘What about it,’ he says-”

“Alright, I get it,” Rami said, exasperated as he fiddled with the figures on his brother’s desk. “I guess you don’t want me texting with any of the others, do you?”

“The others?” Sami looked over at Joe with an expression that screamed  _ back me up here, man! _

_ Nope,  _ he thought,  _ no way am I getting in the middle of this.  _ “Hey,” Joe said, lifting himself off of the floor and wincing when he felt his back protest from the fall. “I think I should try to finish, uh, organizing the supplies in my room.”

Sami looked at him, unimpressed by his diversion, but Rami rose to the bait before the other man could get a word in. “That sounds great, Joe.”

“Yeah,” Sami agreed, an idea forming in his mind. “In fact, I think I’ll make Rami stay in here and help me re-order all of the workbooks. He can fill out the forms; I think I’ve done enough writing for one day.”

“Uh, sure,” Joe said, and scrambled to get out of the room. He heard the brothers’ bickering, almost as if they were children again, even after he closed Sami’s door. Walking over to his own room, he welcomed the peace and silence, allowing a break from the whirlwind of emotions he’d just been put through.

Joe stood in the middle of his classroom, unsure of what to do, but he wasn’t alone for long. A shock of red hair appeared from the hallway, followed by the rest of Mrs. Dai. She peered through the small window in Sami’s door, looked at his expression, and chuckled to herself. “You’ve met Rami, I see.”

“I did,” Joe said, slowly.

“And now, you’ve also met the side of Sami that comes out whenever his brother is within a five-mile radius.”

“I did,” Joe repeated. “Why is he like that?”

“Well,” she began, “as long as I’ve known Sami, he’s had a soft spot for his brother. He’s very protective of him.”

“I saw, yeah.” Thinking back to the daggers Sami had glared at his own damn boss, Joe shuddered,

“It really doesn’t help that half of the staff here are infatuated with the poor guy. Sami doesn’t trust anyone but yours truly alone with him,” she said, sticking a thumb out at her chest.

“What makes you different?”

“For starters, I’m pretty sure my wife would object to it if I tried to get with my co-worker’s brother.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense.”

“Secondly, I’ve known Sami since he started here, I know not to mess with him when it comes to his brother.” She walked over, slightly towering over Joe as she gave him a quizzical look. “The only question now is, will he have to worry about you?”

“I, uh, I really don’t think-”

“That answers that, then,” she said, smirking. Patting his shoulder a bit too hard, she strode out of the classroom. “You know, Joe?”

“Yeah?”

“It doesn’t matter how much Sami likes you,” her face went still, more serious than he’d ever seen her. “If you fuck with his brother, he’ll make you regret it.”

Joe gulped. “Noted,” he said, voice small.

Smile bright, Mrs. Dai left the room, adding “just remember, if you ever need to know anything, I’m your gal. The kids never stop gossiping in gym, it’s a constant battle of he-said, she-said, ‘why did they throw her the ball and not me’ kind of talk. It might just be teenage chitchat, but it’s important to know what’s going on around here,” and winking at him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. See you around!”

With that, Joe was left alone once again in the classroom. He pulled out his phone, absentmindedly playing a few games before a notification appeared at the top of his screen.

-

_ Ben: so how’s you’re first day back, old man? _

_ Gwilym: your* _

_ Ben: shut up _

_ Gwilym: there’s a possibility that you might need to go back to school as well, Ben. _

Joe smiled to himself. This, a simple conversation, was exactly what he needed right now.  _ It was weird,  _ he typed,  _ teacher moved next to mine has a twin brother, threw me for a loop.  _ He felt as though now wasn’t the best time to mention the living situation; all it’d do is enable them.

_ Ben: ooooohhhh, twins ;) _

“Gross,” he mumbled to himself.  _ Not like that, dipshit. I don’t date co-workers. Too messy. _

_ Gwilym: the other brother, is he a teacher as well? _

_ Ben: yeah, joe, is he? ;) _

_ Stop with the winks, Ben,  _ he typed.  _ Said co-worker is protective as hell. Doesn’t help that half the staff here seem to want to fuck him. Poor guy’s practically got a chastity belt welded to him. _

_ Gwilym: it’s simple, Joe. _

_ Gwilym: just maintain a good relationship with the brother that you work with, grow closer with the other brother, and eliminate any competition you have in the school. _

_ Ben: do one of those grand gestures with the flash mobs! _

_ Gwilym: don’t do that.  _

_ Ben: DO IT _

_ Gwilym: Please, don’t do that. _

_ I’m not going to make a flash mob, I barely know him,  _ Joe typed, exasperated. 

_ Gwilym: here’s a solution- school starts for the students next week, right? Invite the brothers over, Ben and I can come for moral support, and we can hang out in the name of a last-minute summer shindig. _

_ Ben: say shindig again and I’ll kick your kneecaps in  _

_ Ben: old-ass grandpa _

_ That’s actually not the worst idea, dude.  _ Joe looked up as he typed. He could still vaguely hear one of the brothers’ voices, but they didn’t seem to be at each other’s throats anymore.  _ Does 8:00 sound like a good time? _

_ Ben: just early enough to not be creepy, just late enough to possibly have this guy spend the night ;) _

_ Gwilym: that’s a good time. Ask right before you leave, play it suave. _

Joe face-planted into one of his hands.  _ Can’t even try that at this point. I slipped on a pencil and landed on my ass trying to shake his hand. _

_ Ben: LMAO _

_ Gwilym: that’s- _

_ Ben: so hot, joe. he must be drooling over you as we speak! _

_ Gwilym: yikes, man. _

_ Ben: I expect to meet these guys tonight, joe. don’t back out. _

_ I won’t.  _ Sending his message, Joe sat back on his desk. His classroom was a lot nicer this year; evidentially, someone had sent the custodians his message about the grime in the floor tiles, and the SmartBoard projector, white board, whatever, finally stopped bugging out whenever he connected his laptop to it. 

All in all, it seemed to be shaping up to be a good year. He’d be receiving his student roster in his email tonight, and all he could hope for are good students and smaller class sizes than the year before.

Joe wanted to relate to his students this year; he didn’t want to be just Mr. Mazzello, science teacher; he wanted to be the kids’ friend, a mentor, someone they’d look back on in a few years and smile about even though the rest of middle school sucked.

An idea popped into his head.

_ What better to use to relate to kids than something they use to relate to each other? _

With the hope that the internet wouldn’t fail him and that his printer wouldn’t give up on him, he got to work.

-

A few hours and many, many low-quality memes from the teaching subreddit later, Joe’s classroom appeared to look complete. The tables were equally spread around the room, the sinks were clean, the cabinets stocked, hell, even the chairs were new and lacked the tell-tale signs of teenage boredom with no scratches or gum in sight. He checked his phone, clocked the time at 3:58p.m, and decided to head over to the classroom he’d been skillfully avoiding. Slowly, as if walking to an execution, Joe left the safety of his classroom and stood outside of the door, leaning his back against it as he debated with himself.

Was he really going to do this?

_ No,  _ he thought,  _ no way in hell. I’m going to go home, alone, Ben and Gwilym will take the piss out of me for it and I’ll regret not saying anything but I don’t want to make a mistake again today and- _

The door swung open, angled towards the interior, and Joe found himself going down onto the linoleum for the second time in a much too short timespan. Cracking his head against the tiles, he instinctively shut his eyes. “Not again,” Joe said, groaning.

“Fuck, dude,” he heard one of the brothers swear. The voice was a bit gruffer and, judging from the immediate curse, Joe assumed it was most likely Sami. A prod on his shoulder brought him to reality, and he opened his eyes to see not Sami, but his brother crouched down, looking at him with a curious expression. The light from Sami’s desk lamp lit him up from behind, causing a vague highlight lining his silhouette.

_ He looks like an angel,  _ Joe thought,  _ an honest-to-God angel. _

Rami’s hand snuck around his bicep, and Joe was tugged to his feet. He took time to brush himself down, mainly as an excuse to let his flush die down. “Are you okay?” Rami asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Joe said. Under his breath, he muttered, “only thing bruised is my pride.”

Ears pricking up, Rami let out a huff of laughter. Sami looked unamused, gaze flitting between the other two men. “Try not to break your head open, Joe,” Sami said. “You know we don’t have the health insure to cover it.”

This caused Joe to laugh, and with the easy going conversation, he found it within himself to ask what he came here to do. “Hey, are you guys busy tonight? My friends and I were planning on hanging out at my place; I feel like you’d love them.”

“I’m not doing anything, so why the hell not?” Sami said, shrugging. 

“What about you?” Joe asked, turning to Rami and praying that his face wasn’t showing how excited he was.

“Can’t,” Rami said, wincing. “I have a graveyard shift for shoots for the next few nights, and I need to be there early for prep.”

_ God fucking- _ “Ah,” Joe said, face falling, “that sucks.”

“Yeah,” Rami said, remorseful, “it really does, but I can’t blow it off.”

“No, no,” Joe stammered, “I get it, seriously. No harm, no foul.”

“I’m still free tonight,” Sami said, gaze curious as he watched his brother.

“Then it’s on!” Joe said, aiming for an aura of ‘definitely-didn’t-organize-this-to-get-close-with-your-brother.’ He smiled, hoping it wasn’t a grimace, and passed his phone to Sami. “Just put your number in here; I’ll text you my address.”

Sami took the phone, glancing down at the screen for a moment before entering his number. “Alright,” he murmured, typing. Rami looked at him, uncertain, and Joe took that as his cue to leave.

“Well, I’m going to head out,” he said, jerking a thumb over his back. “Need to get supplies for tonight, along with the other guys.”

“Yeah,” Sami said, “see you later, man.”

“Bye, Joe,” Rami said, waving a hand. Joe felt himself blush.

“See y’all soon.” With that, he walked out of the classroom, making sure to watch his steps as he left.

Outside of the room, he shut the door before rolling his eyes. “Y’all?” he asked, mainly to himself. “I’m not even southern, why the hell-,” he stopped, seeing someone else lurking nearby. “Aaron?”

McCusker, the woodshop teacher, stood opposite of him. His shirt was coated in sawdust, and he held, out of all things, a small, wooden bull wearing a top hat. “Yeah, Joe?”

“What are you-,” he began, cutting himself off when he remembered what Dai said earlier. It was a known fact that McCusker had a  _ thing  _ for the Malek he didn’t work with, as shown through Dai’s joke earlier. “You know what, never mind.”

“How’s your classroom coming along?” McCusker asked, trying for polite conversation, which was much more than what Joe was doing. “I got lucky, everything in the shop is bolted down. I never have to re-organize, which makes prep days a breeze!”

“That’s nice, Aaron,” Joe said, trying not to roll his eyes.  _ The last thing I need right now is this guy making me like him when we’re fighting for the same goal,  _ he thought. “It’s going well.”

“You know, if you ever need any help-”

“I don’t; I actually just finished up  before I went to talk with the Maleks.”

“Oh, I was just about to do the same!” His face grew worried, eyebrows pinching. “Do you know if Sami’s still in there?”

“He is, yeah.”

“Damn.”

“Why do you ask?” He glanced at the small bull again, a bit concerned.

“No reason,” McCusker said, quick and nervous. “Guess I’ll have to try again sometime later.”

The pair stood together for a moment in an awkward silence, the kind where one party doesn’t like the other but can’t say it aloud. “Well,” Joe said, scratching the back of his neck, “I’ve got to go.”

McCusker smiled, giving a small wave. “See you later, Joe!”

“Yeah,” Joe mumbled, ducking into his room to grab his bag and turn the lights out. Locking the door behind him, he added a quiet “goodbye” as he made his way down the halls of the school, far away from his classroom and into the parking lot. He opened his car door, threw his bag into the passenger seat, and drove off, mentally making a checklist of what he’d need for the night.

-

Picking up Ben and Gwilym before going to the grocery store was a mistake.

“How the fuck did you manage to drive to work, grandma?” Ben’s voice rang from the backseat. “I feel like you’re going to crash any minute now.”

“Don’t be rude,” Gwilym said, leaning back and swatting the blond on the shoulder. 

“You know,” Joe said as he turned to go into the Target parking lot, “it’s times like these when I understand why the colonists turned against England.” He saw a middle finger in his rearview mirror, and slammed on the breaks. The horn from the car behind him was one-hundred percent worth the  _ thud!  _ Ben’s head made as it hit the seat in front of him.

“That goes for you, too, Joe,” Gwilym said, giving him a look. The trio got out, slamming the doors behind them as they walked to the entrance.

“I’m here for snacks and drinks, nothing else. Got it?”

“Got it,” the British men replied in unison.

-

As they left the store with $245 less than they entered with, all three men sheepishly shoved their items into the trunk before piling inside and speeding out of the parking lot, worried that someone would recognize them as the men who bought a frankly obscene amount of Dr. Pepper, amongst other things.

-

Trees sped by them as the car traveled along the highway. The silence in the car was all-encompassing, until one of them had the courage to break it.

“Do I-,” Gwilym started, “do I want to know why you bought-,” 

“It’s called having hope, Gwilym.” Joe replied, eyes on the road in front of him and hoping that the sunlight made his flushed skin less visible to the others.

-

After unpacking the supplies into his cabinets, he heard the tell-tale guitar strumming of a song he’d blared all throughout the summer of 2018. Evidently, one of the other men had turned on his speaker and connected their phone to it. Turning around, he saw Ben with a shit-eating grin on his face, laughing as he heard Gwilym’s annoyed huff from where he sat on the couch. 

“I honestly don’t think that I can listen to this song anymore,” he said, leaning back. “Not after I heard it whenever I saw your stupid ginger head last summer.”

“C’mon, Gwilym,” Ben said. “Are you sure that you ‘don’t wanna live as an untold story?’”

Faux offended, Joe joined in, clutching a hand to his chest. “You’d ‘rather go out in a blaze of glory?’”

“I wish I couldn’t hear you two,” he said. In response, Ben turned the music louder, and Joe felt the bass line strum through the floors. The beat was infectious, and he found himself doing a weird little hop-dance, bouncing on the balls of his feet and, admittedly shittily, singing along and clapping his hand against his thigh.

The song came to a close, and immediately after the final chord played out into silence, Joe heard a small laugh from behind him. Whipping around, he saw the Maleks standing in his open doorway.

“Nice moves,” Sami deadpanned, which only seemed to make Rami press his mouth tighter in an effort to not laugh again, upper lip twitching as he tried to suppress a smile. At the sound of a new voice, Gwilym and Ben got up, walking over to meet the new men.

“I’m Sami,” one of the twins said, and stuck out his hand. Rami did the same, greeting both of the Brits with a polite smile. After getting over the initial shock of seeing the brothers, Ben’s eyes grew wide.

“Joe,” he said, slowly, “why didn’t you ever tell me that you knew an Emmy-award winner?”

“What?” Joe asked, confused as hell.

“Him!” Ben said, excitedly pointing to Rami. “He’s the guy from Mr. Robot!”

With that bit of information, Joe now remembered seeing a photo of some guy in a hoodie that was the wallpaper of Ben’s phone for months after he discovered the show. Ben had tried to get him to watch it, but the end of the school year had creeped up faster than he’d thought and he didn’t have any free time. Now, though, he was beginning to regret not putting the pieces together earlier.

“It’s really nothing,” Rami said, bashful.

“Dude,” Ben said, looking him straight in the eyes, “you’re one of the best actors I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you,” he replied, and with that, Sami stepped up.

“Rami, you shoot starts soon,” he said. “You really shouldn’t be late again.”

“Oh, yeah!” he turned to the rest of the group. “I’m really sorry I can’t make it tonight; maybe I could come by sometime later?”

“That’d be great,” Joe replied, and Rami said a quick goodbye as he ducked under his brother’s arm and left. Sami stepped inside, letting out a low noise of approval.

“How the hell do you manage the rent here on a teacher’s salary?”

“Royalty checks, mainly,” Joe said, shrugging. “I had a few roles as a kid, they mainly pay for the utilities.”

“Sweet,” Sami said, and sat down on the couch, kicking his shoes off. The other men joined him, with Gwilym carrying over a few bottles of wine. At the looks he got from the other men, he rolled his eyes.

“This is literally the only thing in your apartment that will actually taste good, alongside getting us drunk. Forgive me if I don’t want to drink the eagle piss Americans call beer.”

“Fair enough,” Joe said, and got up to retrieve four glasses. “Who wants to start?”

-

“Fuck her,” Sami said, staring at his glass with the hatred one usually reserves for people like Voldemort or corrupt politicians. “Fuck her so, so much.”

“Care to explain who you’re talking about?” Gwilym asked, cautiously scooting the drink away from the other man. Two hours into their evening, each of the men were in different stages of intoxication, with Ben and Sami competing for the winning spot. Gwilym only had one glass, and Joe hadn’t touched his, mainly out of fear that he’d let his intentions on matters concerning Sami’s brother slip. That idea alone was enough to put him off drinking for the rest of the night. 

“Never trust triple b’s,” Sami said, reaching back for his glass.

“Triple b’s?” Joe questioned.

Sami nodded. “Triple b’s.” Punctuating each word by lifting a finger, he said, “Blonde, British bitches.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended or not,” Ben mumbled, but Joe cut him off.

“What happened? Did you break up with a,” he tried to use the phrasing Sami did, “triple b?”

“No,” he replied, staring at his hands. “Not me, no. Rami did.”

At the mention of his brother, the other three men’s ears perked up. “What happened?” Gwilym asked, voice gentle.

“She-,” he said, voice shot to hell. “She tried to keep him in fuckin’  _ London _ .” His voice dipped into a mock of an English accent, but switched back as he continued. “He almost did. He almost left his entire family behind because he fell in love with a girl who didn’t care about him as much as he did for her. I just got a call one day of him saying that he’d be moving in with her, that he’d send someone for his stuff and that he’d see me in a few months on our birthday.”

“God, dude,” Gwilym said. “That’s horrible.”

“The worst part,” he said, laughing to himself, “the worst part about all of this is that I can’t even be mad at him! He was in love, and was willing to do anything to stay with her.”

“What stopped him from moving?”

“Seeing her angry. They got into a nasty fight, and seeing how she’d get, he got scared. A few phone calls later, and he’s on a flight back home.”

“Do you know what happened during the fight that made him flee?” Ben asked with a sense of morbid curiosity.

“No,” Sami said, putting his head in his hands. “He won’t tell me, and I’m afraid to push the issue.” He paused for a moment, taking a drink from his near-empty glass. “Now, though,” he said, a hard look in his eyes as he raised his head, staring at the other men. “Now, I know what to look for. I can make sure it doesn’t happen again. My logic is that, if he isn’t in a relationship, he can’t be hurt.”

Gwilym and Ben looked at him, uneasy at the unexpected challenge.  _ Fuck,  _ Joe thought to himself.  _ I need to make him realize that I’m a safe choice, that I won’t hurt him; but how? _

As he looked at the brother of the man he’d fallen for, both literally and figuratively, he realized that he had quite the monumental task ahead of him, and had nowhere to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I'm aware that sami's voice is lighter than rami's irl. let me have this. 
> 
> let's play a game called Spot That Reference! the chapter has references to the mummy [1999] and rami's astrological sign.
> 
> "Poor guy’s practically got a chastity belt welded to him;" is easily one of my favorite sentences I've written in a while. the mental image makes me laugh. other favorites include “Try not to break your head open, Joe,”[...] You know we don’t have the health insure to cover it;" "Forgive me if I don’t want to drink the eagle piss Americans call beer;" and the phrase "triple b."
> 
> on the lucy ordeal- I know that opinions of her, especially with those in the fanbase who ship mazlek/malee/charami/etc, are varied. some love her, some hate her, and some are neutral. I needed a reason for her to not be in the fic, and every story needs an antagonist. sorry for the lucy stans, but I chose her. I'm sure she's a lovely woman irl.
> 
> also, with the characterization of sami- I'm taking him in the direction of protective brother who doesn't want to see people he cares about get hurt. no one is perfect, and he does go a bit overboard in his attempt[s] to make sure that his brother is cared for. 
> 
> I'm curious- what do y'all think [or hope ;)] that joe bought? I have some ideas, but I'm debating on whether or not it'll just be a throwaway joke scene.
> 
> joe is heavily, heavily based upon one of the best teachers I've ever had the pleasure of being taught by. she was an amazing woman who is the main reason I plan on going into the STEM field when I'm older. the other teachers are either fellow actors or oc's that have appeared in my original stories that I write for the program I'm apart of.
> 
> I have the biggest Soft Spot for teacher au's. they're up there in my favorite tropes of all time tbh.
> 
> my writing from here on until the end of may/early june is going to be sporadic at best. school's kicking my ass at the moment and balancing academic and athletic varsities takes a lot out of a writer y'know. I try to write whenever I can, though!
> 
> as always, Feedback Fuels Me. comments on here are akin to crack for me. messages on my inbox on tumblr [@ramimalekbi] are extremely welcome! 
> 
> if rami/joe/sami/my father ever see this fic, I'll commit toaster bath.
> 
> hope this monster of a chapter makes up for the fact that I haven't updated in a damn month lmao.

**Author's Note:**

> currently at wordcount 800-something, if I ever hear nice for what again I'm going to throw myself out of a window.
> 
> joe was flossing, by the way. he couldn't do it :(
> 
> the best part of the trail mix is the raisins. yes, even better than the m&m's. salty!
> 
> rami was originally in the red outfit with the louis vutton [?] belt before I realized that if anyone wore that in dmv summer in july they'd combust.
> 
> y'all already know that all of my works' titles are song lyrics, so if you know the lyric, you know the song for chapter three. if you don't know it, don't look it up. surprise yourself!
> 
> it's two fifty-five a.m and I'm writing this in a powdered-donut fueled rage.
> 
> if you have anything you want to see, comment quick and I might be able to add it before I'm done! comments in general are always nice, though :)
> 
> be back soon! [out fishing! sign manifests]


End file.
